


Lift Your Eyes and Count the Stars

by lco123



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:55:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lco123/pseuds/lco123
Summary: Paige blinks a couple of times. Seeing Spencer is like seeing a ghost. Paige can practically smell the Rosewood High cafeteria as her body floods with familiar adrenaline.“Spencer, wow,” Paige stammers. “Hi.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! I was planning to post this fic as a oneshot, but it's gotten longer than expected and I wanted to post something today. So, here's part one of (maybe more than, we'll see) two.
> 
> If you, like me, also have a lot of feelings about Paige McCullers, you might enjoy the bonus Paige-centric episode of [Everybody A Everybody Gay](https://anchor.fm/everybodyapod) that speakpirate and I recently recorded.

_“All flights heading eastbound, there will be a minimum two-hour delay due to inclement weather. More updates to follow. Please standby.”_

_Of course_ , Paige thinks. She’s been at the Denver airport for what feels like an eternity, her supposed forty-five minute layover stretching to a three-hour one. All of the TVs in the terminal are featuring new stories about the snowstorm engulfing the East Coast, supposedly one of the biggest of the decade. Six hours ago, Paige wasn’t particularly excited about heading to Rosewood, but now she longs to be anywhere except the terminal.

She checks her phone. It’s almost five o’clock, definitely late enough to get a drink. She doesn’t like being drunk on planes—she doesn’t like being drunk, period; too much alcohol and she can still recall the taste of those awful coconut cupcakes—but one drink won’t hurt.

The airport bar is full of other disgruntled travelers, but Paige manages to find a spot at the end of the counter. The bartender, a bearded guy who looks to be in his late twenties, smiles apologetically and says that he’ll get to her when he can.

“It’s fine,” she replies. “I don’t have anywhere else to be.” She’s reaching for her headphones, already looking forward to the sound of Brandi Carlile’s voice, when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

Paige flinches instinctively before hearing her name. When she turns around, Spencer Hastings is standing beside her.

“What in the world are you doing here?” Spencer asks.

Paige blinks a couple of times. Seeing Spencer is like seeing a ghost. Paige can practically smell the Rosewood High cafeteria as her body floods with familiar adrenaline.

“Spencer, wow,” Paige stammers. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” Spencer replies with a crooked smile. She looks tired. Her hair is piled in a messy bun on top of her head and she’s wearing a blazer with the sleeves pushed up over a gray button-down. An outfit, Paige recognizes, which is not dissimilar to her own.

“Are you sitting here?” a woman standing behind Spencer asks, gesturing to the empty bar stool next to Paige.

“Umm.” Spencer looks at Paige questioningly and Paige nods, out of reflexive politeness more than anything. “Yeah,” Spencer directs to the woman. “I guess I am.”

Spencer slides into the seat beside Paige, still looking as surprised as Paige feels. She wiggles her luggage into the square of floor space between them before fixing her gaze back on Paige. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Business,” Paige replies. “I had an interview at U of A in Tucson. And now I…live in this airport, apparently.”

Spencer grins at her joke. “Where’re you headed to?”

“Visiting my mom. So, Rosewood.” When Spencer raises an eyebrow, Paige adds, “My dad died a couple of years ago.”

Spencer’s expression darkens. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

She didn’t know. Which means that Emily didn’t think to tell her.

“I went back for the funeral," Paige says quickly. "But I actually haven’t been back since. I’ve flown my mom out to Iowa a couple of times, but…”

“Rosewood is complicated,” Spencer offers.

“To say the least." Paige is thankful for the easy out. "Where are you going?”

“Home,” Spencer replies. “Or, trying to get there, anyway.”

“Rosewood?”

Spencer’s head makes a sharp horizontal line across the air. “D.C.” 

Paige nods. “Right.”

The bartender comes over to take their order. “I’m getting fries with my martini,” Spencer announces. “You’re having some.”

Paige can’t remember the last time she ate anything fried. “It’s a deal.”

As the bartender walks away, Spencer says, “Hanna and I were in L.A. for Aria’s movie premiere.”

Paige resists the urge to ask if Emily and Alison were there. “ _Then and Now_ , the motion picture? The one she wrote with Ezra?”

Paige might imagine it, but she thinks Spencer’s mouth tightens. “The very one.”

“How are they?”

“She’s fine.” It’s said in a way that’s definitive, without inviting more questions. Paige remembers that tone. She’s sure the four of them haven’t lost the ability to close rank at the drop of a hat.

The bartender brings their drinks over and they sip in silence for a few minutes. It’s a little awkward, though perhaps not unexpected. After all, it’s not like they’ve ever been friends.

“How’s Hanna?” Paige finally asks to break the tension. “I heard about the divorce.”

Spencer’s eyes narrow. “How did you—”

“Instagram,” Paige supplies.

“Oh. I forgot that she has that. The rest of us—”

“I know.” Until recently, Paige just kept a business Facebook page that she never checked. It felt safer to avoid social media, less traceable. Only in the last couple of years has she allowed herself to explore the positive side of the internet. She even started an Instagram account dedicated to highlighting the accomplishments of female athletes. The project is fun and not terribly time-consuming, and she knows that a number of her former students have come to appreciate it.

Spencer clears her throat. “Hanna’s actually pretty good. It was great to see her.” There’s something in Spencer’s voice, a sense of relief. Years of being Emily’s girlfriend trained Paige to hear the words not being said. She wasn’t around the five of them much during her brief stint as a Rosewood High teacher, but it wasn’t hard to pick up on the tension between Hanna and Spencer. Maybe something between them has finally released.

“What about you?” Spencer asks. “Do you think you got the job at U of A?”

Paige shrugs, even though she knows she nailed the interview. “Maybe.”

“What?” Spencer prods. “Not sure you’re ready to live among the cacti?”

Paige chuckles lightly. “You know it’s not in the middle of the desert, right?”

“Give me a break, I don’t make it to that side of the country much.”

“Tucson is nice,” Paige tells her. “It would just be a big change. I’m not sure I want to be that far from my mom.”

Spencer nods. “I get it. Well, I don’t, exactly. But I also do.”

“It’s a great opportunity,” Paige continues. “I think it feels like a leap.”

“Leaping can be good.”

“Yeah?” Paige looks at Spencer squarely. “When was the last time you took one?” Spencer’s brow furrows and Paige glances away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s okay. I barely feel safe half the time, and the other half I’m either kidding myself or full-on panicking. I’m not exactly looking to take big risks.” Spencer’s voice is calm, but her fingers are gripped so tightly around one another that her knuckles have turned white.

“I’m sorry,” Paige says again.

“You don’t have to be.”

“There’s a lot to be said for surviving. I tell my students that.”

Spencer’s grip loosens. “They’re lucky to have you.”

Paige lets that sit for a beat before asking, "Is it really like that all the time?"

Spencer seems to genuinely consider the question before answering. "Not all the time. Not anymore. I think I'm closer to actually okay than I've been in a while."

"That's good to hear."

The fries arrive and Paige makes a show of digging in, at first for Spencer’s sake but then because the combination of salt and fat is irresistible.

Spencer watches as Paige licks her fingers. “You haven’t eaten something that’s bad for you in a while, have you?”

Paige wipes some grease off her chin with a paper napkin. “That obvious?”

Spencer eats another handful of fries as their phones simultaneously ding. Paige feels a shock of involuntary fear rush through her body— _A is here; Jesus, twenty minutes with Spencer and it’s starting again_ —but then Spencer announces, “Shit. Text alert from the airport.”

Paige checks her own phone. “ _Due to increased concern regarding inclement weather, all flights heading eastbound have been cancelled,_ ” she reads aloud, her heart sinking.

“ _See a customer service attendant for information on nearby accommodations,”_ Spencer continues in a nasally tone. “Lovely.”

“Well, I guess we should close out,” Paige remarks, though she feels oddly reluctant to part ways with Spencer.

“I guess so.” Spencer motions for the bartender to head their way.

“Y’know, technically U of A is paying for this whole trip,” Paige points out. “We could share a room.”

She doesn’t hear how the words sound until she sees the expression on Spencer’s face: stunned and a bit bemused. Paige immediately feels herself start to blush. “I—not—I mean for _cost_ reasons. We’d get two beds, of course.”

“Of course,” Spencer echoes.

“It might not make sense,” Paige offers weakly, wanting to backpedal out of this weird moment. “Bad idea.”

Spencer shakes her head. “Not at all. You’re way more interesting company than pay-per-view porn. Although, I guess it doesn't have to be either/or. Who knows how the night will end?”When Paige’s mouth drops open, Spencer grins. “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

"About the porn, not the room," Spencer clarifies. "I do think it's a good idea."

"Right. Totally."

Even to her own ears, Paige doesn't sound very convincing.


	2. Chapter 2

It's a solid hour and a half before the two of them are checked into their room at the surprisingly posh hotel across from the airport. Once they get inside, Spencer rolls her luggage to the queen bed furthest from the door and starts unpacking a few toiletries.

“I need to take a shower,” she announces. “I think my hair still has gel in it from the premiere.”

Paige sets her duffel bag on the small table next to the television. On top of the table is a card detailing the room service schedule. “Looks like happy hour ends in about twenty minutes,” she notes. “I can order us something, if you’re hungry.”

“I am.” Spencer pulls a pair of sweatpants out of her suitcase as Paige flips through the room service menu.

“What would you like?”

“Surprise me.”

Paige raises an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Spencer glances up from her suitcase. “Surprise me with a super creamy pasta dish. And garlic bread.”

Paige shakes her head. “Do you always carbo-load like this?”

“Give me a break, I had to hear Ezra mansplain David Fincher to me all weekend. I think I’ve earned some comfort food.”

The comment surprises Paige and she laughs loudly. “Let me guess: he’s a big fan of _Fight Club_?”

Spencer breathes through her nose slowly, as though the next sentence pains her. “Oh, yes. I think he fancies himself a regular Tyler Durden.”

Paige winces. “Ooof. I’ll order extra garlic bread.”

“And some wine, please,” Spencer adds.

“You got it."

 _“Thank you_ ,” Spencer mouths as she heads to the bathroom.

After Paige places the call she tries to relax. She slips out of her jacket and shoes, sets an alarm to call the airline early in the morning, and checks her email. She peels back the top cover on the bed and sits crosslegged on the cream sheets, stretching her arms overhead and doing some neck rolls. She’s exhausted; travel always wipes her out, and the added delay and stress of the interview haven’t helped matters. If she was alone she’d probably turn the TV on to something mindless and go to sleep as soon as she was finished eating.

But she isn’t alone. Spencer being here is another variable completely throwing her for a loop, as much as she’s trying to be cool about the whole thing. Paige can’t let her defenses go completely. Spencer likes a good fight, a lively interrogation. And she’s a physical reminder of everything Paige has been working to let go these last few years. Everything, and everyone.

As if on cue, Spencer’s first words as she exits the bathroom are, “So, when are you going to ask me about Emily?”

Paige thinks her body might actually tense and deflate all at once. She’s been waiting for one of them to say Emily’s name. It’s as though Spencer has broken an unspoken rule. “I figured if I waited long enough, you’d bring her up for me.”

“You thought right.” Spencer has changed into her sweat clothes and is drying her hair with a plush-looking towel. She sits down on her bed, facing Paige.

Paige inhales slowly. “The twins are—what? Three now?”

Spencer nods. “Almost four. They’re the spitting image of her.”

Paige has never seen the twins, but she’s seen pictures from Emily’s childhood and can easily conjure an image of two identical girls with Emily’s same wide eyes and dimples. “And Em is…?” She trails off, not entirely certain of what she’s asking. The ease of the nickname catches her off-guard.

Spencer lets the towel drop to her lap, releasing her hair into damp curls. “How much do you want to know?” she replies in the softest voice she’s used all evening.

Paige considers her answer. “I guess, just—is she happy?”

“That’s never been an easy question for any of us,” Spencer says knowingly. “But I think she’s trying to be. I know that the first couple years of their marriage were hard, until they realized that they couldn’t take their lives for granted. So now they’re more… I don’t know. Dedicated, I suppose.”

The answer is more or less what Paige suspected, though there’s a certain sense of finality in having it confirmed. “And how’s Alison handling things?”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “What do you really mean by that?”

Paige sighs. “Does Alison treat her right?”

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “From what I see, she does.”

“No more running away?”

“I can’t tell if you sound disappointed.”

“I’m not,” Paige says quickly. It’s mostly the truth, anyway. “I want Emily to be happy. God knows she and Alison were dealt a terrible hand.”

“A fucked up one, if you ask me,” Spencer agrees. “And it wasn’t just them, was it? You were dealt it, too.”

Paige wrinkles her nose. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you and Em had a chance. At least according to her.”

Paige shakes her head. “No, even if Ali hadn’t gotten pregnant, it wouldn’t have worked out with us.”

“You think so?”

“She could never stand in the same place as me. Maybe it was because of Alison, but either way, I don’t think it was ever going to change. I just didn’t want to see it for the longest time.” Paige shrugs. The realization took years to fully sink in, but now it’s hard for Paige to imagine unknowing it. “She said that she wanted me to stay, but of course that wasn’t a real option. The three of us raising those kids?”

Spencer chuckles. “You would have killed each other.”

“Exactly.” Paige considers their conversation. “Thanks for acknowledging all of that.” _No one ever has_ , she doesn’t say. Not that she needed it, but still. For so long Paige felt like an afterthought, an invisible specter in Emily’s life. Knowing that someone—Spencer, of all people—saw her standing there means something.

“Anytime.” Spencer offers a small smile. “Do you still…” She waves her hand through the air, as though swatting at a fly. “Eh, none of my business.”

“Never stopped you before.”

Spencer glares good-naturedly. “Okay, fine. Do you still love her?”

“No,” Paige answers. “There’s a fifteen-year-old girl deep down inside who will always love Emily. But the person I am now—do I love her? I don’t.”

Spencer’s glare mellows into genuine regard. “I think I believe you.”

The corner of Paige’s mouth quirks. “I think I believe me, too.”

She wants to inquire about Spencer’s life—not out of retaliation; she’s actually curious—but there’s a knock at the door. She answers it and the hotel worker rolls in a large cart. Spencer’s fettuccine alfredo and large basket of garlic bread take up most of the surface area, leaving a corner for Paige’s kale caesar with chicken. On the bottom level is a bottle of Sauvignon blanc in an ice bucket. Paige presses a ten-dollar bill into the man’s hand as he leaves their room.

“This looks amazing,” Spencer declares, already dunking a slice of bread into the creamy sauce. “Thank you.”

“Thank U of A,” Paige replies. She sips her wine. “How about you? Did you and Toby try again?”

Spencer sets her fork down. “Sometimes I wonder if he and I could have made it work, in the long run. Y’know, if our lives were anything approximating normal.”

“Normal sounds like a familiar fantasy,” Paige affirms. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“We did try again. It wasn’t built to last,” Spencer tells her matter-of-factly.

“I’m sorry.”

Spencer shakes her head. “You don’t need to be. I needed to move on. We both did. Especially after everything with Caleb…”

“What exactly happened with Caleb?” Paige asks before she can stop herself. “Sorry,” she amends. “Not my business.”

Spencer takes a sip of wine. “I suppose I owe you some intel, now.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Paige assures her.

“I’ll tell you anyway,” Spencer says. “Because I don’t think it matters anymore. Hanna and I let Caleb get in the way of our friendship, which we never should have done. I did love him, and they certainly loved one another. But even they couldn’t make it work.” She runs a hand through her slightly damp hair. “Maybe it had something to do with me, maybe it didn’t. Either way, I felt guilty about it, up until we just saw each other. And she’s doing really well, which I needed to see for myself.”

“Is she dating anyone new?”

Spencer raises an eyebrow. “Not exactly _new._ Mona’s been helping her redecorate.”

Paige’s mouth opens in a surprised O. “ _Really_?”

“Hanna won’t confirm anything yet. I shouldn’t even be telling you.”

“I won’t spread it around,” Paige promises. “I mean, who would I tell?” She thinks about Mona, about the way her eyes followed Hanna all through the halls of Rosewood High. Paige recalls feeling a certain kinship, way back then. One she couldn’t quite articulate and didn’t care to explore. “Good for her.”

“Hanna?”

“Mona,” Paige corrects. “Though, good for both of them. Hanna will be well taken care of.”

“She’s happy,” Spencer confirms. “It isn’t what I expected, but I’m definitely in no position to judge.”

Paige looks at her squarely. “So, what about you?”

“What _about_ me?”

“Who are you seeing?”

Spencer laughs around a mouthful of pasta. “That’s a joke, right? I don’t have time to date.”

“You had time to go to L.A,” Paige points out.

“That was for Aria. Besides, I’m gearing up for another campaign next week. I’ll be going steady with caffeine and paperwork.”

Paige smirks as she takes a bite of food. “Romantic.”

Spencer smiles back. “Oh, yeah, it’s hot. Trust me.”

There’s a glint in her eyes, a bit of sparkle that makes Paige’s stomach tighten just slightly. She stabs her next bit of salad with more force.

“After Toby, there was someone,” Spencer continues. “For like, two months. I think I was too much for her.”

The pronoun catches Paige off-guard and she swallows more wine than she intended, biting her lip to keep from coughing. She isn’t sure if Spencer is looking for a reaction or not, so she merely nods.

“How about you?” Spencer asks. “Seeing anyone special?”

“Caffeine and paperwork for me too,” Paige replies. “We’re getting pretty serious.”

Spencer frowns. “I thought maybe your hesitation to move had something to do with a girl.”

“No girl,” Paige says. “Not for a long time.”

Spencer presses her lips together, like there’s something she thinks but doesn’t want to verbalize.

“What?” Paige prompts.

“It’s not…it doesn’t matter.”

“You censor yourself much more than the Spencer Hastings I remember,” Paige remarks.

Spencer sighs. “It’s just…you say you’re over Emily. But it sounds like she might still have a hold on your heart.”

Paige feels her defenses start to rise again and she takes a breath. Spencer isn’t wrong, even if she isn’t entirely right, either. Still, hearing another person say aloud the very thought that Paige herself has been pondering for a year makes her want to shut down completely. Jam her earbuds in and run for so long that her lungs start to burn. These are old habits, bad habits. Ones she’s been working on with her therapist for the past six months. She started therapy again right after the very cute and funny barista at her local coffee shop asked Paige for her number, and Paige’s first instinct was to lie her way out of the interaction.

“Are you in therapy?” she asks Spencer. A redirect, to be sure, but not a complete shutdown.

Spencer seems taken aback before nodding. “Sure. After the whole Alex Drake thing, I needed it. I probably never should have stopped.”

 _The Alex Drake thing_. God, all of their lives never quit being a terrible soap opera.

“I shouldn’t have said that about Emily,” Spencer says softly.

“It hit a nerve,” Paige acknowledges. “Which means you might not be off base.”

“Still. Wasn’t my place. I’m working on that.”

“Boundaries?” Paige quips. “Never too late to start having ’em.”

“Oh, shut up,” Spencer huffs, not unkindly. “And _yes_ , you’re right. Now take some of this bread.”

The two of them eat in relative silence for a few minutes, though it isn’t awkward like before. Spencer refills their wine glasses. Paige thinks about turning on the television before deciding that the buffer is unnecessary. She actually likes Spencer’s company. At first it just felt like a connection to home, but now it’s starting to feel like a connection, full-stop.

After they’ve finished eating, Paige gives them each another refill and they both sit back against their respective beds. She’s starting to feel pleasantly floaty from the alcohol—not coconut-cupcakes-drunk, just a little tipsy.

“Do you think you’ll ever end up back there?” she asks. She knows that she doesn’t have to say where.

Spencer makes a low noise in the back of her throat. “To visit, yeah. To live? God, I hope never, but I thought that before and ended up staying long enough to acquire a whole new family and a bullet in my shoulder.”

“I can’t go back indefinitely anymore,” Paige says. “I have to have an end date. A plane ticket or something waiting for me back home.” _Or some_ one, she mentally adds but doesn’t say, certain that Spencer is thinking the same thing.

Spencer turns to look at her. “I’m sorry about your dad.”

“Thanks.” Paige smiles sadly. “Things got better between us, especially after college. Once he could see me as an adult, I think he was able to have more respect for my choice to be, y’know, me.” She can talk about her relationship with her father now without welling up, though her chest still squeezes a little, reminiscing. “But, god, Spencer—I can’t imagine going through what you did with your family.”

“You read about it online?”

“Yeah, and from people back in Rosewood. Word got around, even in Iowa.”

Spencer takes a shaky breath. “It still doesn’t feel real, sometimes. I think about all of the lies and I want to scream, or buy a plane ticket to Australia and change my name. Leave it all behind.”

“What stops you?”

Spencer leans forward on the bed and sets her wine glass on the nightstand. She fixes Paige with a serious look. “I worked so damn hard to survive. I’m not about to give up on my life, not after everything.”

Paige mirrors Spencer’s body position without really thinking about it. “Gotta keep fighting.”

“Exactly. You get it.”

Paige feels it again, that ripple of tension, but now it’s got more charge to it. Spencer’s eyes are bright and intense. Boring into Paige’s in a way that makes Paige feel naked, exposed. Burning almost, maybe reflecting the same desire that Paige is suddenly overwhelmed with. Spencer’s sweatshirt is too big, exposing a wide expanse of her collarbones, and her skin looks so soft. Her hair is tangly and wild in a way that makes Paige want to run her fingers through it, maybe tug Spencer a little bit closer.

Spencer wets her lips, and Paige is already readying herself for what’s to come, so it’s a complete surprise when the next words out of Spencer’s mouth are, “I’m not going to kiss you.”


	3. Chapter 3

Paige blinks a couple of times, trying to break the spell of the last few minutes. “Um, what?”

“I know you want to kiss me,” Spencer says, her voice sounding extra gravelly. “And I do, too. But it’s not going to happen.”

“O…kay.”

Spencer frowns. “Did I misread something?”

“I don’t think so,” Paige says slowly. “I just…wasn’t expecting you to say that. Why _did_ you say that?”

“I’m not doing this again.” Spencer’s tone is resolute.“Not after what happened last time.”

“What happened what time? We haven’t been here before. I would _definitely_ remember that.” Paige wishes she were more sober. She thinks this conversation might be easier to follow.

Spencer’s eyes actually look a little misty. “I can’t lose Emily like I lost Hanna.”

“I thought you guys are good now?”

“But we weren’t,” Spencer murmurs. “And it almost broke my heart.”

Paige nods. “Okay. I understand. I wasn’t angling for anything, by the way.”

“I know. I just want to be very clear.”

“For the record, though, Emily’s not in love with me,” Paige says. She knows that much to be true. “Like, at all.”

Spencer’s jaw visibly tightens. “I heard that same story from both Hanna and Caleb. And then right after I told him I loved him, they were kissing in a dirty motel room.” She rubs her hands on her thighs. “I’m not saying that this is the same situation, in any way. But I’m trying to learn from my mistakes. By setting a boundary.”

“I respect that.” She means it.

“Are you disappointed?”

“I think this interaction has taken way too many quick turns for me to reach disappointment,” Paige remarks. “Besides, I’m kinda tipsy. So I agree that it’s a bad idea.”

Spencer smirks slightly. “I’ll try not to take offense at that.”

“Are _you_ disappointed?”

“A little,” Spencer confesses. “Honestly, I think it would be hard for me to stop, once we got started.”

Paige blushes, in spite of herself. “Is that so?”

Spencer nods. “I’ll be thinking about a different way this night could have ended later, that’s for sure.”

Paige feels a surge of desire shoot through her. “We should go to bed. Separately.”

Spencer looks mildly concerned. “Did I come on too strong?”

“No,” Paige says emphatically. “The perfect amount. Which is why we should call it a night.”

Spencer’s face relaxes, a combination of relief and reluctance painting her features. “You’re right, you’re right.”

Paige gets up to quickly use the bathroom and changes her clothes. She doesn’t bother with her usual routine of flossing and brushing her teeth and washing her face. She’s eager to climb into bed, eager for this evening to be over and done with. Not that it hasn’t been enjoyable, far from it. But she isn’t certain she can handle marinating in this tension with Spencer for much longer.

When they’re finally both in bed with the lights off, Spencer calls a quiet good night over to Paige, which Paige reciprocates. She’s willing herself to sleep when she hears Spencer call her name.

“What is it?” Paige whispers into the darkness. It almost feels like they’re at a sleepover, like any minute one of their moms—possibly in the form of Emily—is going to burst in and reprimand them. For what, Paige isn’t certain.

“Are you going to move to Tucson?”

“You already asked me that,” Paige points out.

“Well, I’m asking again.”

Paige considers the question. If anything, this whole night has made her think about the things she wants for her life. Her choices were so restricted for so long. Now she has a world of possibilities ahead of her.

“If they offer me the job, I think I’ll take it.”

“Good,” Spencer says sleepily. “Y’know, I’m pretty tired of the East Coast.”

“Oh.” Paige isn’t certain what she’s supposed to say to that, and Spencer’s silence indicates that she doesn’t expect a response.

Somehow, mercifully, Paige manages to fall asleep, the combination of the alcohol and the day’s travel lulling her into a deep slumber. When she wakes up her alarm is blaring. It’s five o’clock in the morning, and she needs to call the airlines.

She’s surprised to see the bathroom light on. Spencer comes out a moment later, already dressed in a professional if casual looking outfit.

“How long have you been up?” Paige asks, her voice sounding croaky.

“I set my alarm for four-thirty,” Spencer replies as she winds her hair into a twist. “They were able to rebook my flight. I have to go in about ten minutes.”

“And you were just going to leave?” Paige means it to sound joking, but her tone comes across as overly indignant.

“I would have left a note,” Spencer replies sheepishly.

Paige flicks on her nightstand light so she can look at Spencer’s face. Spencer’s put on a little makeup, but she still looks tired. Though Paige is certain that she herself looks worse.

Spencer lingers near the foot of Paige’s bed. “This was completely unexpected.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Will you tell me if you get the job?”

“I don’t have your number,” Paige reminds her.

“Smooth,” Spencer says around a laugh. She goes over to the table by the television and writes her number down on a pad of hotel stationary. “There you go.”

Paige pushes the covers off and climbs out of bed. She goes to stand beside Spencer. “Did you mean what you said last night?”

“Which part?”

“About leaving the East Coast.”

Spencer shrugs, but there’s a heaviness behind it. “Who knows. Yes, I’m tired of it, and yes, I have a lot of ties to it. A job and my family, for whatever they’re worth. If I had a good reason to leave…” Her eyes trace Paige’s face, and Paige’s stomach lurches. They’re as physically close as they’ve been this entire time. Paige could just reach up and tuck a lock of Spencer’s hair behind her ear. She could press their lips together for a kiss. One kiss, a goodbye kiss. As harmless as anything. And the thing is, she thinks Spencer wants her to.

“You said Emily might still have a hold on my heart,” Paige says softly. “That’s not totally true. It’s the fear of getting hurt that’s held me back. Nobody’s seemed worth the risk. At least, not…”

Spencer nods sharply. “I understand. And I have to go.”

“Okay.” Paige forces a smile, even as she feels her eyes inexplicably starting to burn.

“Thanks for the room. And for the company.”

“Anytime.”

Spencer gathers her luggage and Paige opens the door for her. She knows that time is of the essence and that she really needs to call the airport, but she can’t bear to do so until Spencer is completely out of sight.

Their hands brush as Spencer walks past her into the hallway. Paige thinks she might just continue on her way before Spencer stops and turns around. “You know, I actually really love cacti.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t know if they’re a good enough reason to move, but…”

“Visit, maybe,” Paige muses.

“I’d need somewhere to stay.”

Paige leans against the doorframe. Her heart feels lighter than it has in a very long time. “I might be able to help you out with that.”

Spencer grins. “Paige McCullers, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”


End file.
